The Friday Night Hair Wash
by K. Cloak
Summary: A little bit of humorsmut starring Radu and Elmira. Horny teenagers. Psychic powers. Cold showers. And Suzee hanging by her thumbs in the Team Room. R&R!


**Author's Note:** I have no idea where this little plot bunny came from, but since there have actually been new SC fanfics posted lately, I figured what the hell. Just a little humor-smut in Radu's POV – do not take seriously! Please review!

For lack of a better title, this is:

**The Friday-night ****Hair**** **Wash********

by K. Cloak

It's Friday night. I've heard from the Earthers aboard the Christa that Friday night was traditionally a time for engaging in social activities with others. Especially romantically involved "others."

_I'm_ going to wash my hair. Harlan laughed loud and hard when I made that announcement in the bunk room. "I'm going to wash my hair," I'd said. "So don't expect there to be any water left."

After laughing hysterically (not to mention loudly - my ears are still ringing) for about five minutes, Harlan gave me a double thumbs-up sign, said "have fun!" and left the bunkroom, snickering to himself. Whatever.

I step into the bathroom, lock the door, and take off my clothes. I look at myself in the mirror and sigh. My hair was a mess, and it looks like my pubes need another trim. There's nothing like sawing madly at your pubic hair with a really sharp razor, all the while trying not to castrate yourself. I'll put that off for later. I flex my muscles a bit - ever since I found out Suzee was bisexual and preferred the "effeminate" look, I've been trying to bulk up. Not too easy considering I need to lift about a ton for a "workout." 

"Very sexy, baby." I jump and whirl around in surprise. No one but Elmira can manage to sneak up on me. Her astral projection is looking lovely, as usual; she's wearing a long pink dress with thin straps and a load of cleavage on display. She knows that I know that she increases the size of her boobs on the astral plane - in real life she's barely a B cup. She walks up to me and plants a ghostly kiss on my cheek.

I put my hands on my hips. "You know, Elmira, do you think I haven't noticed that you always show up when I'm in the shower, or getting dressed, or sitting on the toilet? You've forced me to give up my nudity taboo!" I step into the shower and turn it on – Elmira follows me in. What does she care? She doesn't get wet. 

"You don't miss it," she says smugly. "Besides, think of the look on the crew's faces if…" She sends me a mental projection of me in neon orange hot pants and roller skates, flying around the command post to the horror of the assembled crew. I cringe at the thought and she makes imaginary me throw his arms in the air, revealing bushy armpits. Imaginary Harlan pretends to vomit in a jump-tube.

"Very funny, Elmira." I put in the drainplug and pour half a liter of shampoo onto my head. 

"You don't need that much, you know," she says, reaching up to put her ghost-hand in my mass of soapy hair. Her fingers pass through my hair and scalp. 

"You always say that."

"I'm right," she says with a smile. 

"I wish I could kiss you," I say impulsively. This long-distance relationship is in no way easy, not only because I can't ever see Elmira in real life, but also because any attempt to call her is inevitably discovered by her father. "Warlord Shank's daughter will marry a Spung! A Spung! Warlord Shank will not have his daughter consorting with Andromedan scum!" Elmira really needs her own communications line. You should hear her answering machine message.

"Well," says Elmira with a naughty look in her eyes, "I could pull you up into the astral plane. Are you up to it?" I give her a _look_. 

She tells me to close my eyes and as I do I feel a pulling sensation, as if my soul has been caught on a fish hook and dragged out of my body. I open my eyes to a white, formless plain without a single detail or splash of color save the green and pink figure directly in front of me. I reach out and take her hand – it is warm, scaly, and best of all, solid.

Before I can think, I find myself dipped over backwards, long-fingered hands on my back, with Elmira's lizard tongue making its explorations inside my head. I guess I'm not too heavy here.  I drag her down onto the formless ground and return the kiss in kind; let me tell you, there's nothing like the knowledge of no consequences to make you horny. I'm on top of Elmira and sucking on her green neck before she can say a word; her hands are below the belt of my uniform in an eyeblink.

Uniform?

"Why do I… have… a uniform on?" I pant, as Elmira struggles with the buttons on my shirt. Frustrated, she rips it open, scattering buttons into oblivion. "Just a residual self-image," she says between kisses. "You can change anything you want here." 

"You mean, like your boobs?" I ask. Crap, I shouldn't have said that.  In a second her body is off mine. 

"I thought you liked them this way!" she says, a frown appearing on her face. She crosses her arms, which only increases her breasts' apparent size. 

Uh-oh. When a woman says that, you're in dangerous territory. I do _not_ want to see the Warlord Shank side of Elmira today. Time for a quick subject change.

"I was just curious, Elmira! And besides, whatever you want to do with your body or your astral projection is fine with me, after all, you're your own woman." Bingo! The frown melts to a neutral expression as I show what a sensitive and respectful boyfriend I am. 

I continue. "I just thought, if we can change what we look like, can't we change what this place looks like too?" I gesture toward the void.

Elmira looks around, then a grin crosses wipes away the neutral look. "Why, Mr. Radu. Do we want to indulge in a few fantasies?"

"Perhaps," I say. I concentrate, and the Team Room appears around us. Elmira raises her eyebrows.

"I always wanted to fool around in the Team Room," I say nonchalantly. Walking toward Elmira, I snap my fingers, and she's wearing a black leather collar and manacles.

"So, you want me to be your love-slave, Radu?" Elmira lies down on the couch and gestures toward me – my uniform turns into a pair of black leather pants. Only.

"Call me Master."

"Yes, Master." I chain her wrists to the couch, then do the same thing with her ankles. I look at her tail and figure it would be too hard to tie it down.

I snap my fingers once again and an image of Suzee appears out of thin air. She walks up to the couch.

"You want to have a ménage a trois with _her_?" shouts Elmira. "But she's not even really here! It would just be mental masturbation!" I can tell she's getting angry, so I give her a smile. "No, Elmira. She's just for decoration." I string the protesting Suzee-projection onto the wall by her thumbs. She struggles in vain. 

Elmira giggles. "And you say there's no Spung in you?" I join her on the couch. 

"She was getting on my nerves."

I kiss Elmira, teasing her, not letting her touch me. She kisses me back when she can reach, then gasps as I undo the front of her dress and devote my attention to her fabricated Double-D's. 

Zzziiiip! She's used her tail to undo my pants, and in one swipe has me buck-naked.

Well, two can play at that game. I grab the flimsy pink fabric of her dress and pull. There is a satisfying ripping sound, and I'm lying on top of a naked Spung princess. The feeling of her skin on mine is intoxicating… I run my hands through her hair as her breasts brush against my chest. She breaks free of her manacles and grabs my ass. She pulls be forward, and I can feel the heat radiating off of her body… She kisses my neck and I brush against her… you know where. I don't care if I lose my virginity in VR! I kneel between her legs and…

POP! I'm fully dressed and Elmira (dammit! Also fully dressed) is ushering me to the door. 

"I'm really sorry about this, Radu, but you're drowning. You've fallen face-down into the bathtub. I'll see you later sweetie!" She gives me a kiss on the cheek. Her face is still flushed forest green.

She shoves me through the door – and I plunge into a nearly-full tub full of tepid water. I pull myself to my knees, struggling with the mass of wet hair that's trying to suffocate me and gasping for air. I jump out of the tub and stand, dripping, on the floor. 

I look in the mirror. I'm still soapy and my lips are blue from lack of oxygen.

I look down. They're not the only ones.

Sighing, I turn the shower knob to cold and get back in. 

----

**Author's Note:** Please tell me what you thought, anyone who reads this. I usually do "angst, angst, and more angst." I've never actually tried humor before. 


End file.
